


Thirst

by nishiki



Series: two sides - same coin [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Falling In Love, Heart-to-Heart, Heartache, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Unrequited Love, one-sided Edward Nygma/Oswald Cobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17727023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: A moment of passion between Oswald and Edward leads to heartbreak.





	1. Chapter 1

Ed’s kisses burned like flames that were licking at his skin. How long had he dreamed of something like this? How long had he hoped in vain that Edward would someday touch him like this? This change of heart had been all too sudden. Perhaps so sudden that Oswald should ask more questions than he had. However, as Edward came to him a little while ago and asked him to talk to him in private in his bedroom, Oswald had not been hesitant to lead his former best friend up the stairs. They had a truce ever since Ed had helped him to escape Arkham, their newfound friendship disrupted only by the blossoming romance between Ed and Lee Thompkins.

How blind was this man? Oswald knew that Edward, once more, had fallen for a beautiful woman head over heels just because said woman had been nice to him, perhaps stroked his ego even. Edward was as simple as that. He was a man who craved praise and attention because he never got praise or attention in his past life. Had Isabella never come between them, Edward would have been his.

And yet, Edward came to him today. The moment they had closed the door behind them, Edward’s mouth had been on his, devouring him completely. And who was Oswald to deny him a kiss? Who was he to deny him more than that? Who was he to refuse Edward as he undressed him? Gladly he had shed his layers and layers of clothing. Gladly had he allowed Edward to push him onto the bed.

Finally, he thought, finally Ed had realized what was right in front of him! Finally, Ed saw him the was Oswald had seen him for years now. He had never stopped loving this man ever since their days as mayor and chief of staff. Together they could move mountains. Together no feast seemed impossible. Edward’s body fit so perfectly into his. His own body seemed built just for the purpose of taking Edward entirely. He was no fan of being pushed onto his front. He wanted to see Edward as he was thrusting into him but alas he could only claw at the pillow underneath him. He could only bite back his screams as he bit into his pillow.

When he had imagined this in the past, he thought that Edward would be slow and gentle, deliberate in giving him pleasure. He had imagined hours and hours of them spending in bed, exploring each others bodies, finding out every detail and everything that made the other moan or beg for more. In his dreams, Edward’s long fingers had brushed down his sides and his legs, finding out how ticklish he truly was and having his fun with it. Instead, the sex was hard and rushed, passionate without a doubt, turning his body into a thunderstorm, his heartbeat overclocked, his fingers and toes numb from pleasure when he finally came with a scream ripping out of him.

»Oh God, Lee!«

It was this, just those three words, that made his entire world crumble into pieces like on the day his mother died. He saw her in front of him, her blue eyes turning lifeless before his very eyes, her gaze becoming dull and soulless as she sank to the ground, pulling him down with her. Lee. There was a voice in his head, loud and aggressive telling him that he had misheard it, that his paranoia had gotten the better of him but as Edward stilled and pulled out of him, an awkward little silence between them suddenly, he knew that he had really heard the name.

»Oswald, I’m…« He stayed where he was for a moment longer, lying face down in his bed, naked, his body still trying to keep up with what just happened, his breathing out of control from the sudden burst in activity. It took him a lifetime before he could move again and sat up just in time to see Ed throw away the condom he used and stuff himself back into his pants. His shirt hung open, his green jacket lay on the floor. He looked positively disheveled after Oswald had raked his claws through his hair and yet he avoided his eyes.

»Lee?« Oswald echoed silently, his own voice alien to himself at this.  

»I didn't mean to … I’m so sorry. I don't know what happened there. It's just … there is so much on my mind.« As Oswald sat up straight on his bed now, Edward quickly took his hands in his and almost clambered into his lap like a dog. His fingers were trembling and he was still avoiding his eyes. Edward had never avoided looking at him. His brown eyes had always burned right through him. The locking of their eyes had always felt like real physical contact. Now he was denying Oswald this connection.

»You know … I came here hoping you could help me but then I saw you and I forgot about everything. I was just overwhelmed - as I was back when we first met but then everything came crashing back down on me and I … I don't know. I’m gonna make it up to you.« It was a hollow promise. A deal with no gain.

»I would appreciate it … if you would not say the name of another person during sex from now on.« He tried humor even though he already felt sick as realization started to dawn on him. It was a creeping little sensation in the back of his skull. A sickness almost. A virus. Acid that was eating it's way through his brain and through the thick wall that was his love for Edward. He wanted to believe him but the sickness was starting to creep in on him and his fingers were numb in Ed’s hands. His mouth was dry and he couldn't feel his lips.

»I’m sorry.« Ed sighed with a gentle smile as he placed a kiss on the back of Oswald’s left hand. He watched him as he did because otherwise he wouldn't even have felt the touch. The numbness spread from his fingers to his hands and they would move further until his whole body would be numb. Numb and dead. He had been poisoned. »I know … now might be a bad time to ask but … Well, I have to return to my show soon and I really don't want to waste your time or anything. So … I was wondering … You see Lee has this clinic in the Narrows.«

»I know.« He had been there in this dirty run down room Lee Thompkins called a clinic for the poorest of Gotham. Yet, he didn't feel his mouth moving as he spoke. It was like someone else behind him would say these words. »I was there.«

»Exactly.« He seemed uncomfortable. »You see … She is struggling for money quite a bit to keep her clinic alive. She is doing great things there and I wondered … Maybe you could help me help her?«

Money. That was it. He was here for money.

It was like a punch in the guts, the same as when Edward had first told him about Isabella. No, it was a bullet to his stomach. His lungs were filled with the icy cold waters of the Gotham harbor. The shot was still ringing in his ears. The puzzle pieces fell into place. Inside his head the virus roared and the acid broke through the wall, searing his brain, melting away every last resistance that he had held those past seconds in his mind.

He was here for money.

»Get out.« His own voice was barely above a whisper and though Edward was now looking at him, Oswald was looking away. He stared at a spot on the wall behind Edward. There was a dark stain on the wallpaper. Had it always been there? It was impossible to tell. He could swear the stain was getting bigger the longer he stared.

»Oswald, please let me explain, I-«

»GET OUT!« It was a shriek more than a shout and he would have felt embarrassed would the circumstances be different. Edward jumped to his feet without another word and he was gone from his room before either one of them could grasp what was happening to them.

After everything Ed had done to him in those past years, this was the most cruel. There was a part of him that wanted to rage, a part of him that wanted to destroy his bedroom and burn this house to the ground. He couldn't do it. As he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and put his feet securely on the ground, he was numb. He might as well be dead, he thought. At least that was how he felt right now. He was dead. His body was completely numb and cold. He was deaf to the world, numb to every bit of feeling or emotion. Nothing more than one of many ghosts in these ancient halls.

The sober part of his brain thought that he should feel heartbroken, that he should feel embarrassed for allowing Edward to trick him like this. He should feel anger and frustration, deep sadness and fury. In the end, he just felt numb. There was nothing left inside of him that could still be broken. His heart had been shattered into a million pieces time and time again and now whenever something happened, the cracks just reopened but it didn't hurt as much. His heart was frozen over. The losses he had suffered too great to count.

He felt like he needed to puke. He wanted to puke.

There was a sharp knock on the door behind him but he didn't turn. He just stared ahead at the window in front of him. Rain was drumming against the glass. It always seemed to rain in Gotham. »Go away, Gabe!« The response to the knock came automatically. He felt drained as the door opened despite his words. He didn't even have enough fight still left inside of him to throw something at the intruder or lash out in any way at all.

For once in his life, he did not care for his nudity. He was just a human being like any other human being right? It was just a body. A body littered in scars, perhaps, but a body nonetheless. Flesh and bones. There was nothing to be ashamed of. He had just spread his legs like a whore for a man who didn't love him, for a man who came here and fucked him because he had wanted his money for his girlfriend. His eyes were too dry to cry but the burning persisted.

»Oswald.« He recognized the voice right away and how could he not? James Worthington Gordon. When people who thought they knew him claimed that Edward Nygma had been his first love they were wrong. Maybe Butch knew the truth. Fish had definitely known. He remembered the days he had spent wit Fish before her death at Jim’s hands. A lifetime of grief and hatred lay between them and yet, she had put her hand on his cheek, saved him from the man who wanted him dead and been a mother for him in those last days of her life. She had listened to his story, had dried his tears and allowed him to rest at her side. His shoulders slumped without his consent but Jim’s voice had this effect on him.

Jim, regardless of his nudity or the smell of sex and heartbreak in the air, walked around the bed and sat down next to him as if it was normal, as if they were friends. Jim Gordon who had left him in that damned aircraft despite his fear. He should be angry. Yet, Oswald could never bring himself to stay angry with Jim for long. He didn't care if Jim would look at his body and study his nude form. He was back in Arkham again where the nurses had stripped him and took pictures of him.

»Is everything okay?«

He was back in Arkham again where the nurses had stripped him and pushed him into a bathtub filled with cold water, pushing his head underneath the surface until he almost drowned. The harbor water was filling his lungs and he was drowning. He was back in Hugo Strange’s office, the subject of his new experiments, a frog he wanted to dissect and blood was clouding the murky waters around him.

»He wanted money.« His throat was dry. He had swallowed the Sahara desert. »He fucked me because he wanted my money for Lee’s clinic. He fucked me and imagined me to be her.« He didn't even feel the tear that was running down his cheek but wiped it away regardless, as if there was still decency to uphold now as if he was not sitting naked on the edge of the bed where he had allowed Edward Nygma to betray him again. Even though Ed had been the one willing to sleep with him for money, it was Oswald who felt like a whore. He was the used condom Ed had thrown in the trash bin next to his bed.  

»Look at me. How stupid. Of course, he would only sleep with me for money. Who in their right mind would ever want to sleep with someone like me?«

»Oswald-«

»My mother always said, life gives you only one true love and when you find it, you run to it. I had my chance and I squandered it when I killed Isabella.« He didn't even care that he confessed a murder to Jim. Maybe he wanted Jim to put him in handcuffs and throw him into some dark hole. Maybe they were long past this kind of stuff. He was a murderer, a criminal and no one knew this better than James Gordon. So many times before had Jim had the chance to lock him away for good and yet he never did. »Perhaps true love is not meant for evil people. Perhaps I deserve this.«

»You are not evil.«

His words drew a snort out of his throat without his consent. »Please, Jim. Spare me.«

»No, I mean it.« Jim’s sigh sounded heavy. He was a man carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Oswald had known this about Jim the moment they had first met. He thought that he needed to do everything on his own, that he could never accept any form of help. And still, from time to time, he had allowed Oswald to help. »I've seen true evil, Oswald and you are not. If you would be evil, truly rotten, you would have truly killed that little boy and not go through all the effort to just fake his death.«

He wanted to cry. He wanted to bawl his eyes out. »I miss him so much.« Silence greeted him like an old friend once more but he knew that Jim understood. Jim Gordon had always understood, regardless of their differences. »You know … When I adopted Martin … I thought maybe that was what my mother meant. Maybe I was always meant to be his father and that this little boy, my son, is the one true love of my life as I was my mother’s. But now I can't even see him anymore because being with me means certain death for him. Everything I touch seems to rot right under the tips of my fingers. I corrupt and I kill. I corrupted Edward as well. I could have had him, had I not killed that woman. And now he just comes to me when he needs money for the woman he loves and fucks me like he is nothing but a simple callboy for me to enjoy.«

He drove a hand through his hair. »I suppose I can only accept it as it is, right? It's either accepting it and rid myself from this obsession of finding true love or agony. I might as well start calling hookers over when I feel the urge to. In the end, everyone only wants my money or my power anyway.«

He was bare in front of James Gordon. He was like a rabbit lying on it's back in the snow and Jim was the wolf ready to strike. He could end him with one bite. »You still love him.« There it was, the bite. It didn't hurt, though.

The strangled sob that escaped him did not come out of his own throat. There was something else, someone else. Yet, Jim Gordon's hand landed on his naked shoulder and the touch sent shivers through his body.

Oswald knew that he should feel dirty as he later lay in his bed with Jim Gordon's arms wrapped around him from behind. He should feel like a whore, sleeping with two men at the same day not even an hour apart from each other. Maybe he was just that. A whore. He was Edward Nygma's whore because they all knew that he would spread his legs for him again if he would ever come back to him. And he was Jim Gordon’s whore - had always been his whore.

He had allowed him so easily to push him into the mattress and to claim his body. He hadn't even thought about it as he had dug his nails into the flesh of his back. And yet, Jim Gordon had been slow and deliberate, his touches like fire and rain on his skin, the pleasure he gave him like lightning striking him again and again, his eyes burning into Oswald’s like molten lava. They had been so close, closer than he had ever been with anyone and Jim was still here with him.

Outside the world was black and the sky weeping. There was a used condom in his trash bin from another man and Jim’s release coated on the insides of his thighs. Jim Gordon was wrapped around him like a protective armor from behind, his head on Oswald’s. And for the first time in his life, he felt like nothing bad would ever happen to him if he would just stay like this.

He knew that Jim still loved Lee and Jim knew that he still loved Edward. It would never be any different and they both knew that neither one of them would ever truly be free from the people they loved. Edward and Lee had left deep scars on them both. Sometimes the scar in his lower stomach itched quite badly. He couldn't help but wonder if Jim had a scar like this too - an itch that desperately needed scratching.

It was not perfect but it was what it was and he loved Jim Gordon for the imperfection he brought to his life.


	2. Chapter 2

»You can go now, Gabe.« The burly man seemed surprised to hear the words from his boss as he stepped into Oswald’s office inside the ancient van Dahl mansion where Oswald sat under the watchful eyes of long lost ancestors. »It's your mother's birthday, isn't it?«

»Yes, Sir.« Gabe was one of the many career criminals that had once been working under Don Maroni. He had been in and out of prison his entire life, more incarcerated than free. All too often had Gabriel Visconti been sitting for crimes he hadn't even committed - petty crimes most of the time. Theft, robberies, one or two assault charges. He only knew crime and the consequences that resolved from those crimes most of the time ever since he had been a teenager. Regardless of his age, Gabe had never had a wife or children but he had a mother.

»Then go, Gabriel, and please do extend my best wishes to her - Oh, and my gratitude for the lasagna she made for me the other day.«

With a nod, Gab was already turning to the door before he paused in his tracks to turn around once more. If he wouldn't know it any better, he would claim that Gabe would look worried. »I thought Gordon was dropping by later.«

»True.«

»Shouldn't I stay then? Make sure that he doesn't do anything funny?«

Oswald almost laughed at the words but only rose from his seat instead to walk over to Gabe and pat his shoulder. »I’m fine, Gabe.« They had been through so much over the years and almost Gabe would have lost his life a few years ago after this whole drama with Edward Nygma. Almost he had truly betrayed him in that greenhouse on the outskirts of town as he had been all too willing and ready to auction Oswald off piece by piece to his enemies. But Gabe hadn't done it. He had stayed loyal in the end and Oswald had decided to change his position about him. He had decided to become more truthful to Gabe, nicer even, entrust him with his business more often and give him the place at his side that he deserved. Gabe deserved his loyalty as much as the other way around and he had been too blind to see it before Edward had shot him in the gut.

Gabe nodded once but then he said his goodbyes and left. He wouldn't judge about him and James and he wouldn't even lose a word about it. Gabe acted around Jim as if James Gordon would not regularly come to this house to sleep with his boss. They could fuck right in front of Gabe on the table and he wouldn't say a word about it - but he would make damn sure that no one else would say a word about it either. Gabe, even during his time with Don Maroni, had always been some sort of unlikely protector to Oswald, like an old dog, perhaps. Whenever the other guys at Maroni’s would have made fun of him, Gabe had been there to rein them in quickly.  

To this moment, as he walked over to the parlor and grabbed a bottle of nice red wine from the bar, he still didn't know how all of this happened and how he got into a situation where he would prepare for a visit from James Gordon with a nice bottle of wine and dinner waiting for them in the oven. By now it had become such a regular occurrence that Oswald didn't stop to think about it. It just was what it was and he liked it. When Jim would come to him twice or sometimes even three times a week, when Jim would step through that door as if it was normal, it felt like he was coming home to him. As if what they had was a real relationship. As if it was completely normal that James Gordon, captain of the Gotham Central Police Department, would come to his house, sit down with him over dinner or a nice bottle of wine in front of the fireplace only to end up in Oswald’s bed later.

It felt familiar and warm. What they had was a soft hand-knitted sweater during the winter. It was comfortable and nice and he didn't want to exchange it for anything. Jim Gordon was a light in the darkness for Oswald. He had always been a light to him. These days, however, Jim Gordon was a spotlight shining a beacon at the dark and gloomy sky above Gotham. A signal fire.

There was a knock on the door half an hour after Gabe had left. His heart made a little jump at the sound and he didn't even hesitate to hobble over to the front door to open it himself. Butch was out doing whatever tonight - probably trying to find a cure or talking to Tabby. This woman didn't even deserve Butch’s love but he had promised his old friend that he would not interfere with their relationship as he hoped Butch would not interfere with his relationship with James.

Only once had Butch told him that he worried about him and this situation Oswald had gotten himself into. Oh, Butch. Good old loyal Butch. He had been the one person around him urging him to be careful around Nygma as well. Never trusting that snake, to begin with. Butch had seen in Edward what Oswald had been too blind to see at the beginning. Of course, Butch had been supporting him only for his own gain but Oswald had known this from the start and he could respect that. In this regard, Butch had never felt the need for lying to him. Only the situation with the Red Hood Gang had been a little over the top.

To his surprise and disappointment, it was not Jim on the other side of that door in the pouring rain. »Edward.« The name was a ghost leaving his mouth as he saw Edward in front of him. He hadn't seen him since the last time this snake had slithered its way through the tall grass in front of the house to come here and claim a favor. He looked disheveled and though he was fighting for composure, Oswald could see something lurking just beneath the surface.

»I need to talk to you.« His voice was raspy and dry, hoarse almost.

»There is nothing we need to talk about.« He had his hand on the door to shut it in Edward’s face but he was just too pitiful to send him away like this. Oswald’s heart clenched at his sight despite what happened between them. Edward looked like a beaten dog as he realized that Oswald was about to shut him out and put his own hand on the threshold so that Oswald would break his hand would he slam the door shut. As if that would really hinder him if he would be just furious enough at the sight of Mr. Edward Nygma. Ed knew him better than this.

»Oswald, please … I know what I did was wrong and I want to apologize.« He sounded so sincere. In his head, alarm bells were going off and yet he stepped aside to allow him inside. There was a voice inside of him screaming just how stupid it was of him to allow him into his kingdom. But it was Edward and he was Oswald and they were connected whether he liked it or not. They shared a bond that went deeper than their differences or the pain they had gone through together - or inflicted on each other. It was just that simple even though no one would ever understand him in this regard.

Edward Nygma would forever be a part of him. Their lives would forever be intertwined. They may shoot each other, try to kill each other, rip each other into pieces but they would always be a part of each other's lives because Oswald had helped to create the Edward Nygma that was standing before him now and Edward had helped to shape the man Oswald had become. Shooting him in the gut had left a mark on Oswald that went beyond the physical scar just like Fish Mooney had left a mark on him that went beyond his mangled foot.

He owed it to him, after putting him on ice and killing the woman he loved, that he would just listen to him for once. Maybe they were even now after Edward tried to kill him once and then shattered his heart into a million tiny pieces not too long ago. He didn't know. Maybe it wasn't important. It was what it was. A part of him would always love this man. A part of him would always hold a grudge. A part of him would always be hopeful.

And he was hopeful right now. What if Ed came to him because he realized he loved him? He had had time enough to mull it over in his head, after all. But if this was the case, where would it leave James then?

»What do you want, Ed?« He growled as he turned his back to Ed and walked over to the parlor again. »You should better make it quick, I am expecting someone.«

»It wouldn't be Jim by any chance, would it?« Edward’s voice had a certain sharpness to it that made him pause for a second as he walked over to the small mini bar near the window. Like everything in this house, it had been handcrafted to fit exactly with the rest of the furniture. Instead of showing his surprise that Edward knew about him and his relationship to James - because he undoubtedly knew about the nature of their relationship - Oswald just huffed a humorless little laugh.

»I am afraid that this is none of your business, Ed. However, if I wouldn't know any better I was almost tempted to say that you are jealous.« As a good host, he should offer Edward a drink as he poured himself to fingers of whiskey in a crystal glass. However, Edward Nygma did not deserve such decency. He was a rat.

»Jealous?« He had expected the snort tumbling over Ed’s lips and he had expected the cruel words following suit - that didn't mean it hurt any less. »Why would I? It's not like I actually wanted to fuck you but you were just such easy prey and so quickly convinced. It didn't take any effort at all to make you give yourself to me so willingly. You truly have to be desperate for taking Jim Gordon into your bed now instead.«

»Why are you here, Edward?« He wouldn't give into his taunts. The last time Edward had been to this house, he had left Oswald feeling small, vulnerable and dirty. He had felt cheap. He had felt stupid for ever allowing Edward to wield such power over him. He wouldn't allow this to happen ever again.  

»Lee left.« The answer came as a surprise to Oswald. Enough that he turned to face the man who had taken so much from him. »She took all the money I brought her from my bank robberies and bailed on me. Isn't that fucking funny? I told her that you and Jim were fucking and she took the money and left.«

»So, in other words, she used you. What else is new?« A deep growl escaped Edward’s throat at his amused words - feral and dangerous and yet Oswald continued. Now he was the one to inflict pain. It was his turn now because that was how their relationship worked. They would inflict pain on each other again and again and again and never properly heal from it. They hurt each other because they didn't know any other way to deal with the deep love they felt towards each other. Deep down inside, Oswald had always known that they weren't good for each other but that had never stopped him from wanting this man. And it wasn't stopping him now either. It was just that … he wanted James more.

»I mean, really, Edward. Did you expect anything else from her? Did you really expect her to fall in love with you when you would give her the money for her clinic after pretty much selling your body to me for it? Did you really expect a woman like Lee Thompkins, intelligent, gorgeous, kind and good, to fall for the Edward Nygma, a psychotic killer who killed one ex-girlfriend and almost killed one ex-best-friend? Come on, Ed, you are smarter than this. Lee would have never stayed. She would have never fallen in love with you. She used you because she knew she could. She knew you loved her because you fall in love with every woman that makes the mistake of smiling at you. You are desperate for attention and love - perhaps even more so than I am. You are pathetic, Edward Nygma.«

In retrospect, he wouldn't be able to tell what had led to the first punch being thrown. Maybe it was those words he had thrown so carelessly at Edward. He wouldn't claim to know the inner workings of Edward Nygma’s brain even though he knew this man better than anyone else could ever hope to know him.

Edward had landed the first blow against his nose and for a split second, as his glass fell to the ground and spilled the expensive amber liquid all over the carpet, Oswald was sure that he had broken it. After this, everything that happened was a blur of motion and emotion, of anger and frustration and heartache all exploding right at this moment. It was different than having sex with Edward and yet it was much more intimate in a way. Their fights had never been on a physical level like this. They had never laid a hand on each other in anger and yet here they were. They had exhausted all other avenues for their conflict.

»You don't get to treat me like this, Oswald!« Edward yelled and send spit flying everywhere as he ended up on top of him on the ground. His entire body was a world of agony as he lay on the ground of the parlor. Just seconds ago, Edward had thrown him into the coffee table, smashing the piece of exquisite antique furniture under the weight of Oswald’s lean body. His back was aching all over. For a moment, a split second no longer than a heartbeat, Oswald was back in Fish Mooney’s bar on the ground as she delivered blow after blow to his shattered leg and back. He could understand her anger now much better than he had been able to back then. He had betrayed her trust. He knew how painful that was.

Ed was stronger than him and taller. He was faster as he was not limited by an old disability and still Oswald had managed to throw a few punches of his own. His glasses hung from his face, the glass in the right eye shattered. He had broken Ed’s nose but he knew that he himself certainly looked a lot worse than Ed right now. He didn't care as he was clawing and kicking and punching with everything he still had even as his left arm hung uselessly from his body.

They had danced around each other for years and deep down he had known that it would end bloody in some way or another. Maybe, foolishly, he had sincerely hoped that it would be different, that he would get a chance of reconciliation with Edward. Sometimes, he could still feel Ed’s kisses on his skin but these days the memory was acid burning through his flesh. He had waited so long for something so intimate and now the memory made him sick to his stomach and nothing else.

»Not after everything you’ve done to me! You ruined everything!« There were tears threatening to spill from Ed’s eyes at those words and it was this what allowed Oswald to understand what truly happened in this very moment. This was not about him or even Lee or the fact that he was now sleeping with James Gordon - the man whom Edward hated probably more than Oswald at this point. This was not about the drama that had gone down between them. He was nothing more than a physical representation of everything that was going wrong in his life at this point. He was something palpable, something Edward could actually touch and vent his anger out on.

He could punch Oswald but he couldn't punch what really was the root cause for all his troubles in life. Venting his anger on Oswald was just the easiest solution. The puzzle pieces clicked into place as Ed’s next punch very nearly made him fall unconscious.

»My life has been ruined ever since we met!« Ed shouted and he was so close now, their faces mere inches apart. So close that Oswald could feel his hot breath on his skin. It was an instinct that made him extend his right hand. He couldn't move his left arm anymore and it was a miracle that he hadn't passed out already after Edward had ripped his shoulder out of its socket cleanly. His hand landed on the back of Ed’s skull with no force at all and only the intention of pulling him down until Ed’s forehead rested against his own.

»I’m sorry, Ed.« He mumbled regardless of the blood in his mouth. »I’m sorry for what happened.« His words meant more than that and he knew that Edward understood what he actually said. Edward had always been able to understand him in a way. And yet, Edward’s understanding of him was so fundamentally different from the way Jim understood him that sometimes Oswald found himself wondering just why he hadn't seen it sooner. They had never been meant to be, he and Ed. Their relationship had been toxic from the start and they would never be on the same level. Jim and he, on the other hand, had met as equals. Two underdogs in their respective fields of profession. They had risen to power side by side, two sides of the same coin.

For just a blissful moment, Ed stilled in his grasp and then there was only darkness creeping in on Oswald. Darkness and blissful slumber.

※※※※※※※

He had known that Jim wouldn't listen to him and not go after Edward. It was Jim, after all. Jim Gordon never listened. Not even to him - especially not to him. The moment Jim had held him in his arms just a few hours ago, he had known that Jim would go after Edward to confront him about the assault. As if Edward had just barged into the mansion and started beating him up for no reason at all. He couldn't deny how glad he was that Jim was back with him again now - alive and safe.

Ed could have just as well killed him, after all.

»She took all his money.« It seemed the rain over Gotham would never stop. It had rained since the afternoon and if it would keep raining like this, he was sure that his basement would be flooded come tomorrow morning. The drugs that the black-market doctor gave him helped with the pain. Jim had helped to clean him up and Butch had hovered around them to help just as well, making sure that no one would bring any more harm to his boss now that he was vulnerable.

Regardless of their strained past, Butch had a very protective streak when it came to those people who still tied him to his past life at Fish’s side - which was, in short, Oswald. Everyone else was dead. »After he didn't get my money, he took to bank robbing. Apparently, he was quite good at it … Who would have thought? He is so flamboyant … I mean, you would expect him to leave giant green question marks all over the place, right? Anyway … She took his money and bailed.«

Jim pulled him closer as if he needed to prove a point to him - or someone. Not that Oswald would complain about it. He enjoyed having Jim close like this, his strong arms wrapped around his middle and Jim’s head resting on his. He felt secure in Jim’s arms, comfortable. Jim’s warmth was familiar, his body a familiar plane, his smell and his voice and his breath on Oswald’s skin sensations he called home by now. Already he had grown much too accustomed to Jim’s presence in his bed. He started missing him when he would lie down. He started having troubles falling asleep when Jim wasn't with him. It wasn’t good. It was dangerous.

»That's no excuse for what he did to you.«

»I am not excusing him.« He sighed. »But he was hurt and his heart was broken and by god, if anyone knows about heartache, it's me. He lashed out. He never meant to kill me.«

He felt tired thanks to the day’s events and the drugs currently in his system. He couldn't feel his toes but that was not very bothersome right now, not when James was so close to him now. He had not left his side while the doctor had taken care of him, worry etched into his features as if they were more than occasional lovers as if they were supposed to be anything but mortal enemies. James Gordon was a lighthouse in a stormy night.

»You still love him. That was why you didn't want me to go after him.« There was the thunder roaring in the distance again, the lightning bolt striking him at once and sending an electric shock through his body. If the man lying beside him and holding him in his arms would be anyone but James Gordon, Oswald would feel his heart race at those words. But it was Jim and his heart remained calm.

»A part of me will always love him.« He knew that it wasn't the answer that Jim wanted to hear but it was honest and he knew better than anyone else how much James respected honesty. He was the only person Oswald could ever be truly honest with. It was a strange sensation. His whole life he had been lying to those around him. His mother, Fish, Don Falcone, Don Maroni, even Edward. He had been lying over the simplest things and sometimes telling the truth had been impossible. That wasn't the case when he was with Jim. He had never quite felt the need to lie in his face. »You didn't harm him, did you?«

He didn't mean to sound worried. But at the end of the day, Edward was still Edward and it was as he said. A part of him would always love him. A part of him would always long for the friend he lost a long time ago. Ed had been the first person after his mother's death who had seen an actual human being buried deep inside of him, whereas James had always only seen some kind of monster that he could maybe use for his personal gain. He had allowed himself to fall for Edward’s sweet words of understanding and admiration.

»I punched his lights out.« He had expected nothing less from this man and yet Jim’s words gave him the opportunity to land a gentle punch against his arm. Maybe Edward had deserved that punch. There was a part of Oswald who wanted to believe that Jim had punched him only for what Ed had done to him but the more rational and realistic voice inside his head knew that this was simply not the case. It was about Oswald, it was about Lee, it was about years and year of resentment between the two former colleagues. Oswald was only a tiny part of the equation.

»You didn't need to do that, you ridiculous man.« Jim had the audacity to chuckle at his words before he tucked Oswald's head under his chin more securely. Oswald drank that sound right up as he felt how Jim buried his nose in his hair. Having Jim curl around him like this felt like finally being home. He had never quite understood what this meant. Home had been his mother's apartment before. Home had been the crappy one-room flat Edward Nygma lived in with the green hue from the janky neon sign outside that would drive everyone insane eventually. »You know … When he came and confronted me about you, for a second, I thought that he was jealous. For just a second, I thought Edward and I still had a chance and I was … happy, I guess.«

Jim said nothing and there would be nothing he could say either. Sometimes they didn't quite need words to express their feelings to one another. The truth was that James Gordon could read him like an open book and never had been a thought scarier and more exciting and utterly relaxing at the same time. No secrets, no lies. Just two men laying bare in front of each other.

What real understanding felt like he had only started to realize when James first came into his life like this - with the force of a hurricane, knocking him off his feet. He had swept in like his knight in shining armor and collected the pieces of his broken heart to glue them back together. There was a beauty in their relationship that he couldn't quite put his finger on yet. There were love and companionship and neither one of them would say the words out loud yet both of them knew that they were there. A confession of love was more than saying those three words. It was the way James would hold him in his arms when he would cry over Edward Nygma. It was Oswald lending him a shoulder to rest on when James had gone through hell and back at work. It was understanding the boundaries and hearing the words that were not being spoken.  

It wasn't perfect. It had kinks and sharp edges, little bumps, tiny missing pieces, and jagged scars, but it was what it was and to Oswald, it was the most precious little thing and he wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
